THE OTHER WIFE

  This morning started off like any other weekday for me. I got up, showered, dressed, and headed to my job at the University of Chicago. It's a good job that provides me with a paycheck every two weeks. It was also better than the job prospects that I had at home in New Orleans, and this job allowed me to move away from home and live in Chicago, where I shared an apartment in Hyde Park with my cousin Melinda. Melinda and I were close, almost like sisters. Our mothers made sure that we saw each other every summer when school closed. I grew to look forward to the trips up north. She was a year older than I was, and my mom trusted her to look after me. Sometimes she took that option too seriously.

Like I said, it was a predictable day until Aduke Bakare came floating into my office and  plopped herself down on my desk. Little did I know that her visit would change the very direction of my life.

"Hey, girl, what are you doing tonight?" Aduke asked, her lilting accent making her sound as if she were singing rather than talking.

"I was just going home to wash my hair."

"Oh, Janice, that's so boring," she replied, wrinkling up her nose distastefully at the prospect.

"We're having a party in the International Hall for the African students at the university. I was asked to bring an American guest to the affair. I would like you to come with me."

I put my head on my propped up, interlaced hands and looked smiling into her face.

"Oh, Aduke, you know how I feel about parties, especially those on campus. It's enough for me to come here every day. When I finish

work, I'm ready to get out of here for my peace of mind."

"Please, please, please, Janice," Aduke begged. "I won't ask you for anything again."

"Oh, yeah, right," I said, "like the time..." I thought for a moment, looking at my African friend.

"Okay, okay, you win," Aduke, said laughing, her fine white teeth showing as she did.

Aduke Bakare was, in my opinion, the perfect example of the beauty of African women. She was tall, with cocoa-brown skin and a flawless complexion. She had a smile that could light the room and was built like a ballet dancer. Aduke always wore her African attire proudly. We were opposites. I was medium height, with long, light brown hair, and tan skin. I wasn't one to fuss in the mirror. My smile was warm, friendly, and welcoming. It would make my eyes glow with a promise of friendship when I laughed, that is, when I didn't have an attitude.

I was twenty-seven years old, and I had no prospects for marriage. I didn't even have a steady boyfriend. I dated about twice a month, and lately, the men I went out with were either married or looking for a one-night stand. After I graduated from Dillard University with my B.A., I thought I would settle down and get married like all my other friends.

With no prospects in New Orleans, I found a job in Chicago and hoped I would find a suitable husband there as well. Since that did not happen, I settled down into the continuous cycle of going to work, going home, and watching television.

"Okay, Aduke, I'll go."

"Great!" she said, excited, jumping off my desk and headed for the door.

"Wait!" I shouted, stopping her. "What should I wear?"

"Wear something African!" she shouted back to me from the doorway.

"But I don't have anything," I yelled back.

"Then borrow something from Melinda. You know that she has some; in fact, why don't you invite her to come with you? After all, it's a celebration and the more, the merrier."

I gave her suggestion some thought and agreed with her. Then, with a wink, she adjusted her head tie and left.

My boss, Mr. Dotson, the head of Student Affairs, buzzed me on the intercom:

"Janice."

"Yes, Mr. Dotson," I answered.

"Do I have any appointments?"

"No, sir, not on the afternoon calendar."

"Good, then you can have the rest of the day off, if you wish."

"Thank you, sir," I replied thinking, great! That will give me more time to get ready for tonight.

I picked up the phone to call my cousin Melinda. She worked at a law firm downtown as a legal secretary. The receptionist answered.

"Hello, may I speak to Melinda Anderson?"

"May I ask who is calling?" the receptionist asked politely.

"My name is Janice Bordeaux."

"One moment, please."

I waited for my cousin to pick up the line, listening to elevator music.

"Hi, Mindy!"

"Hey, girl. What's up?" she replied.

"Nothing much," I answered, "... except, Aduke invited me to a party at the university tonight. Are you busy? Would you like to come?"

"Umm, don't know, Jan. You know I haven't been around Africans since I broke up with Dele."

"I know, Mindy," I started, disappointed, "but this is a party at the university, and you know Dele doesn't run with that crowd anymore."

Melinda had a bad relationship with a Nigerian named Dele Onibanjo. Dele was the type of man who was not satisfied with just one woman, so he had many girlfriends. It ruined their relationship. Melinda got tired of his infidelity and vowed she would never date a Nigerian again.

"Oh, Mindy, that was ages ago, and besides, you're seeing Bill now."

"I know, Jan, but it still hurts. What time is the party going to be?"

"It's 8:00 tonight," I said anxiously, hoping that she would not refuse to go with me.

"Bill might call, Jan."

"Girl, you've been waiting for him to call since last week."

"I know, Jan, but he was out of town on business. Anyway, I expect him to pop the question at any time," she said happily.

"Mindy, don't bet on it," I said angrily. "Hell will freeze over before he does."

"Oh, don't be so negative, Jan," she said sadly. "I know ... I know he loves me...”

"Yeah, right," I exclaimed sarcastically. "So, Mindy, how about tonight? Come on girl, Aduke says it'll be fun."

"No, thanks. I'm not going into the African scene again."

Well, I can't say that I blame her, I thought.

"Okay, Mindy, then I'll see you later. Oh, by the way, can I borrow one of your African outfits?"

"You can have them all, girl. I won't be using them anymore."

I turned off my computer and walked through the parking lot to my car. The traffic was light so I got home quickly. Walking into the flat, I went straight into Melinda's bedroom and began searching her closet until I found the African garments. They were all enclosed in plastic and appeared new. I chose a purple and gold two-piece dress. It had a long skirt and matching hat. Then I went into the bathroom to shower. I wrapped myself with the towel and returned to the bedroom, almost dry. I was finishing drying myself off when Melinda walked in.

"Hey, girl," I said.

She returned the greeting and asked, "Did you find a suitable outfit, Jan?"

"Yes, I choose the purple and gold two-piece."

"That'll compliment your color, Janice; you'll look like a queen. At least someone will get some use out of it. I swore never to wear it again after Dele and I broke up, but it's such a beautiful outfit."

I brushed my hair into a ball and put the cap on, stepping back to look into the mirror. I looked great, completely different from the conservative picture I presented at work.

"Janice, you look exquisite," Melinda exclaimed, admiring me. "That dress never looked that good on me."

I looked into the mirror, thinking I hope I have fun tonight.

"Wait, I have a pair of gold earrings that will go great with the outfit."

She ran to the dresser and searched through her jewelry box until she found what she wanted, then she handed me the most beautiful pair of earrings I had ever seen.

"Melinda, where did you get these?" I asked, admiring the delicate engraving on the gold earrings.

"Dele gave them to me. It was the only good thing that I got from the relationship." Melinda said unable to stop complimenting me. "Girl, you do look like a Queen from the Mother Land. You do our ancestors proud, Jan."

"Do you really think so?"

"You look great. Wear it with confidence, Janice."

Just as I was getting ready to leave, the phone rang. I answered and a man's soft, mellow voice asked to speak to Melinda.

"Who may I tell her is calling?"

"Tell her, Bill," he said politely. I put the phone down on the table calling,

"Mindy! Mindy! Telephone. It's Bill!"

She ran to the phone, her face beaming with excitement.

"See, I told you he would call," she whispered, holding the receiver to her body so he could not hear what she was saying.

"Okay," I said. "So, I was wrong."

I left, closing the door behind me, listening to the sound of Melinda's voice filled with excitement. I ran downstairs to my car. Once inside, I turned on the radio and one of my favorite songs came on. I listened to it as I drove towards the university hall.

It was a clear, early-spring night. The weather had been unusually mild for Chicago. The moon was out, and you could see the stars, for a change, through the city haze. I reached the university and parked my car in the lot. Walking towards the hall, I met a crowd of people standing at the entrance, dressed in an array of African fashions. I could see that there appeared to be a very large turnout as people lined the walkway in front, waiting to go inside.

I was in good spirits because Bill called Mindy. I hope Bill has good news for her, I thought as I finally reached the front of the line. Walking inside, I searched the room for Aduke and was relieved when I saw her standing in a corner, surrounded by a group of people.

"Janice, Janice, over here," Aduke called out to me as I made my way over to where she stood. I felt nervous when I could see people watching me as I made my way to the group. When I reached her, I complemented her on the outfit she was wearing. She proudly told me it was made of Ashoke, hand-woven cloth from Nigeria.

"Everyone, this is my good friend, Miss Janice Bordeaux. She is the administrative assistant for the Student Affairs Department."

I nodded to the group and shook hands with a few people that Aduke personally introduced me to. The group consisted of Kofi Amponsah, from Ghana, Lata Ewe, from Cameroon, Donald Payne, Andrea Nelson, plus Ouchi Nwachukuwu and Olufemi Adegoke, from Nigeria. When I reached to shake Olufemi's hand, our eyes met; I saw his twinkle as he let his hand linger on mine before Aduke abruptly grabbed me to join in with the group now complementing each other on their traditional African attire, showing me to the table along with the others as the music began to play.

"Oh!" cried Aduke, "that's Sunny Ade — he's one of my favorite musicians!"

I began to feel the night's excitement transferring itself to me from Aduke as she began to perform a solo dance to the music of her favorite musician. She was not alone for long because she was soon joined by a number of men, each vying for her attention. I went to a table and sat down alone, watching her having a good time, dancing and flirting with the men.

Dinner was buffet style, with featured dishes from all over Africa. As Aduke was occupied on the dance floor, I decided to go ahead and eat. The food looked so luscious. I fixed a plate for myself from the platters containing food with unpronounceable names.

After sampling a few of the dishes, I was ready to have some fun when I felt a hand tapping me gently on my shoulder.

"Would you like to dance?"

I turned my head around to see who spoke and saw Olufemi Adegoke. I smiled and replied. "No, thank you. I don't know how dance to African music."

Aduke, returning to the table, heard my refusal.

"Go on, Janice. It's easy ... just dance like everyone else."

I was about to refuse again when Olufemi took hold of my hand and said, "Please, please don't disappoint me. I want to be the first man in the room to dance with the most beautiful woman at the party."

I was flattered and unable to refuse anyone who complemented me like that. As I stood up, I found myself unable to stop looking at him. His eyes were so sexy and when he smiled, I saw the most perfect set of white teeth. He put his hand around my waist, leading me to the dance floor. I watched the other dancers on the floor and attempted to imitate their sensual moves. At first I was a bit shy to move my waist and hips in a way that imitated moves that belonged in the bedroom, but soon I was able to keep up with my partner. Olufemi complimented me on my dancing.

Olufemi was a tall man, about 6'2", with a medium-brown complexion. What attracted me to him was he had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen on a man. They were oval-shaped and ringed with long lashes. The dance floor was crowded, and we bumped each other several times. The last time we touched, he gave me a look that left me feeling weak inside. We looked at each other, shyly laughing at each other. Olufemi was impeccably dressed for the party, wearing African attire that he later told me was called an Agbada, traditionally worn in northern Nigeria, made from material called guinea brocade. It was all white, with an intricate design embroidered down the front. Through his robes, I could feel his body heat, and as he moved, I could see the strength in his arms. A small patch of dark hair stuck out of the back of his cap. His eyes caught me looking at him, and I blushed.

As the dance progressed, he began moving in time to the drumbeats. I attempted to keep up with him, but I was beginning to tire. He explained to me that African records are long. I told him that I was not used to dancing for so long. We danced the rest of the song in silence, but I could see him looking at me with a great deal of admiration. As we whirled to the music, I could smell his cologne. Umm, I thought to myself. The smell is very appealing. When he spoke, I expected he would have a strong accent like Aduke, but instead, his was barely noticeable and sounded so sexy, that when the music stopped, I was kind of disappointed.

"All this dancing has made me thirsty. Can I get you a drink, Janice?"

I said yes as he escorted me back to the table.

"Janice, he said, pulling back a chair for me, you can call me Femi — most people do. It's the shorter version of my name," then he walked to the bar to get us a drink.

While he was gone, two men came and asked me to dance. Femi returned as I was getting up. I shrugged my shoulders and went to dance to another long African record.

I was having a great time. The guy I was dancing with told me he was from Sierra Leon. He said he watched me dancing with the Nigerian and was now going to monopolize me. He was also handsome, wearing his native attire. I guess I was feeling fickle due to all the attention I was getting from all the men.

I was not my usual self at all. Suddenly I was not tired anymore. When my last partner escorted me back to the table, my face was flushed with excitement. Fanning, I excused myself to the ladies' room. On the way there, I searched for Aduke, but couldn't find her anywhere. There were a few ladies in the restroom, and they were admiring my outfit when Aduke rushed in.

"Janice, Janice, what did you say to Femi?" I looked at her anxious face.

"What do you mean? I didn't say anything particular; I just danced with him one time."

"Well, girl, he asked me a lot questions about you, like what you do, are you married, where you live, and your phone number."

"My phone number?" I asked perturbed. "If he wants that, he can ask me himself!" I said with an angry attitude.

"Maybe he's shy, Janice," Aduke said, defending her friend.

"He doesn't look shy," I replied, remembering the handsome man I danced with.

"Well, Janice, it appears that Femi likes you."

"I will have to hear that from him, Aduke."

"Believe me, girl, you will before the night is over. He is crazy about you!" she said, her voice tinged with excitement.

"Okay, Aduke, I believe you."

After freshening up, we went back to the party. It felt as if everyone was watching us as we walked back into the hall. Before I could sit down, a warm hand grabbed mine and I turned around to face Femi.

"Where are you going?" he said huskily, looking into my eyes, searching deeply.

I blushed and began to stammer, pulling away from him. "I ... I ... I ... was going to sit down."

"Yes," he said, "but not before you dance with me."

The lights were dimmed for this dance, a slow one by Luther Vandross, "Anyone Who Had a Heart." We walked to the floor. It was as if we were the only ones there. I looked at him, and he at me, then he put his arm around my shoulders and we began to glide on the floor, my face on his shoulder. I would not look at him, afraid he would see me blush, for I felt his body was warm and saw fine sweat beaded on his brow. Even through his heavy robes, I could feel his heart beating fast. His mouth was close to my ear, and he whispered,

"I like you, Janice. I'd like to see you again."

My cheek tingled at the touch of his breath. His hand slid up and down my back. It felt good to be in the strong arms of a man. It had been such a long time ... too long since I'd felt so comfortable with someone, especially someone whom I'd just met. When I pulled back to look at him, his eyes were gazing deep into mine, alight with a soft glow as if he read my thoughts. Then the song came to an end, but we stayed on the dance floor for a few seconds. It was as if time stood still there, he holding my hand, comfortable just being.

"We'd better sit down; everyone is staring at us," I said through my teeth, as if with difficulty. We pulled apart. Holding my arm, Femi escorted me to my seat. Aduke came over to sit by me, and he excused himself from the table to get more drinks. I watched him walk away before I gave Aduke my attention.

"Janice, do I see something going on, girl?" Aduke asked, her accent tingling with excitement. "What did he say?"

I began to tell her about the magic that had just occurred on the dance floor. We were still talking when Femi came back to the table and sat next to me. His closeness felt good. While we sipped our drinks, I asked him how long had he been in this country? He told me two years and that he came to earn his doctorate in engineering and would graduate this summer. He also told me he was an associate professor at the university. Then he turned his attention to Aduke, and they began to converse in their language. Even though I did not understand what they were saying, every fourth word or so, he would look at me.

The crowd began to thin. As the people in charge blinked the lights to let everyone know that the party was over, we began to walk outside with the crowd. Femi was holding my hand possessively as we passed the other African gentlemen that I had the pleasure to dance with. They all stared with envy at the man who appeared to win the honor of my company. Outside the hall, Aduke, surrounded by a crowd of friends, came over to thank me for coming. I walked away from Femi when he called ...

"Wait, Janice. Let me walk you to your car. Where are you parked?"

I told him, and then he reclaimed my hand as we walked to the car, making small talk. When we got there, he asked me for my key and opened the door.

"When can I see you again, Janice? Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked, without waiting for my answer.

We stood outside in the moonlight looking at each other.

"Okay, Femi," I said shyly.

"Great, I'll pick you up tomorrow evening at seven."

I wrote my address and phone number on a piece of paper. He held it as if it were made of gold. I entered my car and he closed the door. Waving good-bye, I drove off, feeling tired, but happy that the evening had gone well. Arriving home, I walked in to find Melinda out, so I showered and went to bed, dreaming about Femi Adegoke ...

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